Probably Not
by Alice in Wonderless Land
Summary: My sister and I are the black sheep of the family, and not because of Lila's unhealthy obsession with black clothes, although I hardly think that helps. Warren didn't help much either.
1. Chapter 1

I know, I know! A third one? I must be crazy! This just popped into my head.

Just so all of you people don't get severely pissed of about this being Mary-Sewage, it's not. This is based on my sister and I. What is made up and what is non-fiction, well- that's up to you to guess.

Keep on truckin'

SlittleA

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My sister and I are the token 'black sheep' of our family. And it's not because of my sister's unhealthy obsession with black clothing, although that probably doesn't help. We aren't exactly social.

At all-too-common family gatherings my sister and I would lurk in the corners, plotting the deaths of our relatives.

Occasionally we would actually join in on the conversation, which was about us more often than not.

"So, Lila," my great aunt began to prod my sister, "how do you like your new school?" This was code for, 'how is your new school. You know, the one you didn't try to set on fire?'

Yeah- my sister got transferred, but it wasn't her fault. She hated her old school with a passion. Now she goes to a school on the other side of the city, but she's not complaining.

All the other girls our age in our family are princesses, with too-large-for-their-faces sunglasses and perky attitudes.

My sister and I are the girls wearing torn stockings with thick eyeliner, always being the ones to provide much needed sarcasm. I think they pity us. Absent father, dead mother- sure, why not pity the black sheep?

Lila is the antisocial one out of the two of us. She would spend the entire night on her mobile phone to her boyfriend, and god forbid when they meet him! I, on the other hand, make an effort to socialise with cousins of my age group. Sure, they're princesses with no sense of humour but it's better than sitting next to my sister while she talks on the phone.

It was (how do I put this?) strange, when I first met Magenta. She was staying with a cousin of mine because her mom was away on business, and didn't trust her in the house alone. So when she came to a family dinner, I was sceptical. If she was a friend of my cousin, she must be one of… _them_.

I was pleasantly surprised.

She stood there with streaked hair and thick eyeliner, rolling her eyes and making sarcastic comments about everything!

"Hey," she introduced herself, "I'm Maj."

"Kerri," I answered before muttering sarcastically, "Some party, huh?"

Maj just scoffed and leaned against the wall behind her saying, "I could think of more pleasant things to do. Like slowly and painfully killing myself."

I nodded and smirked a little.

"What school do you go to?" I asked her. Her eyes became wide for a second before she answered, "It's a private school… out of town, and you wouldn't know it."

I was taken a little aback by her response but I didn't think much of it.

Lila stalked past me, heading for the door. "And where do you think you're going?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"Benny's picking me up," she answered. Only fifteen minutes into our dinner/torture and she gets pulled out by a 6-foot bleached maniac. Oh well.

"Who's Benny?" Maj asked from next to me.

"Her boyfriend," I scoffed.

Benny's all right, actually. But he gets Lila out of everything and I usually have to go solo at dinner because of it. But not that night, that night I had Magenta.

Magenta reminded me a lot of myself. I had blonde hair with strange coloured streaks that varied from month to month, depending on how bothered I could be to change them This month they were blue, but the old red streaks, although dyed over, were still slightly visible at the ends of my hair.

Magentas black/purple hair made me smile. _Magenta_.

The rest of the night was the two of us sitting in the corner, muttering sarcastically about my relatives who seemed to get on Maj's nerves almost as much as they did on mine.

"How long are you staying with Bianca?" I asked. Bianca was the least annoying of my cousins, but still managed to make me want to gag.

"I'm actually getting picked up by a friend tonight after dinner and I'll stay with him for the rest of the weekend," Maj told me. I nodded and said, "cool."

And how I was wrong. It wasn't cool. It was hot. Scorching hot. When her friend came to pick her up I almost fainted.

"Warren?" I asked slowly.

"Kerri?" he asked back.

"This totally isn't awkward at all," Maj tried to laugh it off nervously, "how do you guys know each other?"

"Complicated," Warren and I answered in unison, both of us unable to form full sentences.

"See you around, Magenta. You make this a whole lot less painful," I smiled at Maj as she was pulled to the doorway by Warren, who probably wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

At home I lay on my bed, staring at my Nikki Sixx poster that I had mounted on my ceiling. Lila walked in through the door and I sat up on my bed, walking out of my room.

"Lila," I began, "You will never guess who I saw at dinner tonight?"

"The Grim Reaper? A Coroner?" She asked hopefully.

"Better… or worse. Depending on how you look at it," I answered uncertainly.

"Who?"

"Warren," I told her, watching as her forehead wrinkled in thought.

"Ex boyfriend, Warren?" she asked me. I nodded.

"How?" she asked me, concerned.

"He was picking up Magenta, they're friends," I said.

"Ouch," she told me.

I could only nod again.

"How does he look?" she asked me, coming into my room to sit on my bed.

"Like a leather-clad god, as always," I smiled.

It was weird, you see. Warren and I never officially broke up. We technically weren't even together. We were just two people who shagged occasionally.

But god, he was hot. And that made me wonder about his powers, which I knew about. I wondered if Maj knew about them. Probably. Now things added up, she went to Sky High with him. Something in my head clicked. That's why she didn't tell me what school she went to.

I, unfortunately, didn't go to Sky High. Although my sister could, she doesn't want to draw attention to her power, which is telekinesis. She just wants to go to her crappy Art School and be a designer.

I don't even have any powers! My dad did. But he went inactive a few years before the divorce, and doesn't like to talk about it (when he _does_ talk to us, anyway)

I wasn't sure if my mom had had a super power, probably not. I had never asked, and it was too late to ask now.

Seeing Warren had made me think, were we just two people who sometimes fucked? Or was it more? Probably not.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Until the age of twelve I lived what most people would consider to be an unexceptional life. My activities on a normal day could be boiled down to a flavourless mush; I got up, went to school, came home, had a bath and went to bed. Although I probably didn't realise it at the time, I must have been extremely bored.

In what seemed to be simultaneous events, my mother died and my twin sister, Lila, acquired her powers. It was also in the year of my twelfth birthday that my sister told me with utmost certainty that there was nothing worse than being ordinary. This, I speculated bitterly, was all well and good for someone with telekinesis. I lived in jeans and a T-shirt and my hair was a dull, dirty blonde. I was nothing if not ordinary.

Those words rang in my mind constantly, and if you add that onto the pressure being put onto me by Lila to not be ordinary, then we have a huge mess.

In an attempt to become different I became a radical vegan, eating nothing that came from an animal. This was very hard for me seeing as prior to this change I had lived on red meat and eggs. It was a good thing that I liked Chinese food.

When the Paper Lantern opened just down the road from my house I was ecstatic. This, although I'm probably sure you believed otherwise, was not where I met Warren. It was where I met my best friend, Oona Wong. Oona was, and still is, a genius.

On a rainy November evening Oona and her family were eating dinner at the Paper Lantern. She was half Chinese and had this gorgeous silk dress that immediately caught my eye. We bumped into each other in the bathroom and talked, missing our entire dinner. We have been best friends ever since.

When Oona turned fourteen she inherited a ridiculously large sum of money from a distant relative. Needless to say, instead of spending all this money on clothes, gum and books like I would have, she opened a store that gave manicures, pedicures, facials and the like. Although Oona owned this store she insisted on doing the work for herself, and hired a blonde woman with outrageously huge boobs to act as the owner.

The first time I stepped into the store this woman came up to me, and because I was not that tall at the age of fourteen, I was eye-to-breast with her mounds.

"Can I help you?" she asked me, petting her little dog as she did.

"I'm here to see Oona," I replied, backing away slightly. This woman walked up to one of the girls giving pedicures and gave her a brisk nod. I realised that this girl was Oona. She bowed to the woman she was giving the pedicure to and walked over to me.

"You come," Oona told me in a thick Chinese accent, directing me to the back room.

Once we were in the back room Oona asked me, "Aren't I a genius?" I could only nod before asking, "What was with the accent?"

She ignored my question and asked one of her own, "What can you tell me about all my employees?"

I told her that they were all Asian, between the ages of fourteen and twenty and were not unlike many people I had seen. There was nothing special about them. Then it hit me.

"The customers don't know they speak English?"

Oona nodded and explained that these women will talk about anything in front of her and her employees. Funny stories, personal secrets, but most importantly, stock tips.

"I even have some of my girls wired," Oona told me.

"Anything interesting?" I asked her.

"Well, according to this woman's husband, Porcelain Cosmetics is huge right now, and I should invest while I can. And judging by my Savings Account Balance, he is never wrong."

Oona got the rest of the day off and we went to Burger Shack, as I had long since given up vegetarianism. I could never get over how glamorous Oona was. Her shiny black hair was done up into a loose bun behind her head and her long silk gown suited her the way anything could.

As the year rolled by, Oona suggested various things for me to do to become extraordinary. She was the only person I had told about Lila's powers and Oona was excellent at keeping secrets, so no one even suspected.

"You could get dreds," she suggested one day when we were fifteen.

"No."

"Tatoos?"

"We've already been through these ones," I let out a frustrated sigh.

I had already begun my transformation as I traded in my plain blue, boy-cut jeans for ripped, stylish ones of various shades and colours. I even wore skirts and fancy-looking shoes. High heels were out of the question as I was four inches taller than my sister. Lila insisted that I was never allowed to wear high heels ever again, as it made her feel shorter than necessary.

Oona and I travelled through the streets of downtown Maxville when she clicked her fingers and suggested, "Streaks."

I raised a blonde eyebrow over my pale blue eyes, "huh?"

"Streaks, of different colours. It'll be crazy, Kerri," Oona said, stepping in front of me and playing with my hair. 'Crazy' was one of Oona's favourite words and it sometimes meant 'cool' and sometimes meant 'what the fuck?'

I nodded my head briskly. It was just what I needed. I went into a hairdresser that did Oona's hair when she thought it wasn't perfect enough. We ordered blue streaks, and my new life began.

When I was sixteen my sister had tried to set the school on fire. There is no back-story, she just did it. The fire alarms went off and students, thinking it was another drill, walked slowly down to the safety area. My sister was expelled. You'd think they would give her the benefit of the doubt, but after they found a switchblade, cigarettes and a lighter in her bag they decided to kick her out for good.

Lila went to an Art school that costed less than my crappy private school, had better teachers, better subjects and better hours. To me it seemed like she was getting rewarded for getting expelled.

On my seventeenth birthday Oona took me out for Mexican food. We ate nachos on the sidewalk and laughed about nothing in particular. Suddenly Oona's large brown eyes went wide and her mouth broke into a smile. It took me a while to notice that she was looking over my shoulder. A tall boy walked into the paper lantern, a leather jacket draped over his shoulder. He made Oona swear in Chinese and I sighed. This was my first glimpse of the infamous Warren Peace.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

It was, in short, pity sex. I am not going to tell you that it was anything more. Warren was broody, I was depressed and it sort of just happened. The same night Oona and I were eating Mexican food and laughing was the night I met Warren Peace. Oona Wong simply said, "We are _so_ going to the Paper Lantern."

I had already eaten, but Oona seemed very determined to get me into my favourite Chinese restaurant. We walked in through the doors, stepping in to the partially crowded restaurant and to my dismay Warren was nowhere to be seen. We sat down in my favourite booth and scanned the menus. I explained to Oona that I wasn't hungry and she simply cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow and said, "Who said anything about food?"

In my past attempts to convince you that Lila was the anti-social one and I was the butterfly, I had been lying through my teeth. I was the 'mousy bookworm girl' who hung out in the Library just to pass the time. I loved books and hated people. Oona was one of few people I socialised with. Lila had no friends at her old school, thus the attempt to burn it down had no emotional strain on her. It wasn't because people hated her; it was because she hated them.

At her new school on the other hand, she had more friends than you can count. Why do you think she had a gorgeous boyfriend to hang out with while I was sitting on the street eating nachos on our seventeenth birthday?

In a flash it seemed like people began leaving. All the couples, families and groups of people eating at the Paper Lantern finished their meals together, as if it was rehearsed and in a mere twenty minutes, Oona and I were considered the life of the party. There was only a couple in the corner, whispering lovingly into each other's ears and a man sitting and eating by himself. Oona and I looked around, yet her leather-clad hero seemed to have never come nor gone.

The man eating by himself left, leaving the couple in the corner and Oona and I all alone. Just as I sipped the last of my Coca Cola I said, "Oh well, let's go." Oona grabbed my arm as I tried to get up and pleaded if we could wait a bit more. I glared at her and shook my head, getting up to leave.

"It's my birthday, Oona, you have to do what I say," I teased. Oona blew a black lock out of her face and followed me out of the restaurant.

We were barely across the street when the couple came bursting out, giggling and holding hands. I cringed. Public displays of affection sickened me. Not far behind them a familiar figure ran through the doors of the Paper Lantern. I heard the couple, which was pushed out of the way; ask him, "Warren? Where are you going?"

He ran right past them and came up to Oona and I. He was holding my wallet.

"I think you forgot this," he told me, holding out my _Nightmare Before Christmas_ wallet that I had left on our table. It was not all that uncommon for me to be forgetting things. Lila once told me that I would forget my own eyeballs had they not been strategically crammed into their sockets.

I swore under my breath in reply, as Oona beamed at Warren. She had been waiting for him, after all. "Next time, I'll keep it," Warren threatened me darkly. I smiled and said, "Thanks."

I could hear the couple muttering to themselves softly as Warren smiled back. I heard something like, "Uh… what is he _doing_?" or maybe it was a "Is he actually _smiling_?" Whatever it was, it was the start of what has yet to be explained.

((------------------------------))

By the time Oona turned eighteen she was practically a millionaire. She payed for her own college tuition and her parents were borrowing money from her. She trusted me never to tell anyone how she got her latest ten grand. Oona is a genius and how she uses this genius is not up to me. She can hack into anything and forge any document. She has been making birth certificates, passports and I.D's. And hell, I wish I had thought of it first.

She made us both fake I.D's but said, "You don't have to use it if you don't want to. It's just in case."

By this time Warren and I had become somewhat of an item. We weren't 'together' as such, but he was nice and I was nice and we were nice to each other. I never knew his friends and apart from Oona, who needed day-by-day confirmation on what I was doing with him, none of my friends knew either. It had all begun after I had had a really bad day, Warren had broken up with his girlfriend and after taunting him didn't give me as much pleasure as I thought it would have, I ended up kissing him.

Like I said, pity sex.

When I told Oona she was speechless before saying, "Damn. You got him first?" I let out a frustrated sigh and fell back on my bed. I had told Lila and she had said, "So? Benny and I have sex all the time." Benny and Lila having sex was not something I wanted to visualise.

It wasn't the fact that I had slept with Warren than shocked me the most. It was that Warren had slept with me.

The interesting part is that Warren and I never became a non-item. We never officially broke up, and although we were never officially together, how we separated was interesting.

I was at the Paper Lantern one evening when a man in a very sharp suit walked into the kitchen. I was waiting for Warren to finish work and I found it peculiar that this man could just walk into the kitchen like he owned the place. When Warren came to sit out in my booth with me Mr. Suit followed.

"Warren Peace?" he asked Warren slowly. Warren nodded.

"Charles Huchard, FBI," he held out a badge, "I was wondering if I could talk to you." I scanned the man, up and down. His suit was tailored, Italian and very expensive. His shoes were handmade, black leather.

"Fancy shoes for a civil servant," I commented, "You get a raise or something?" He looked me up and down, pausing at my streaked hair.

"Who are you?" he asked sceptically.

"Does it matter?" I quipped back. Warren shot me a look that told me to shut up and I simply raised an eyebrow. Warren followed Charled Huchard, supposed FBI agent, into the kitchen. All women are built with a sixth sense. It's called intuition, going with your gut, following a hunch- that kind of thing.

Something didn't seem right to me about Charles Huchard.

((------------------------------))

_**Dear Readers,**_

_**In all your reviews you have mentioned that this story is 'different'. How? Is it a good thing?**_

_**TTFN**_

_**SlittleA**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Fuelled by my natural sense of curiosity, I followed Charles Huchard and Warren into the kitchen. I was as stealthy as I could be, and neither of them seemed to notice me. My curiosity has been displayed through many actions over the years, the most severe being robbery. Nothing too important, but kleptomania has kept me on my toes.

I could only catch a few words out of their conversation;

"…changes…danger to… break… father," said Charles Huchard.

"… don't…talking…my…break… danger?" Warren replied.

"suspects… you… need proof… questions?"

"No."

"need… cooperation… peace," Charles Huchard seemed annoyed.

"… said no… problem?"

"… remind… FBI… authority," Charles Huchard demanded.

This seemed strange to me, for more reasons than one. I made my way out of the kitchen and shortly after I left, Charles Huchard exited the kitchen too. I crashed into him, on purpose of course, and the contents of his fancy Italian jacket spilled onto the restaurant floor.

As I assisted him pick up his belongings I slid his badge into my pocket, using my many years of experience as a petty thief to my advantage. I also took his business card and a pen, for reasons that I still don't know.

He glared at me for knocking into him and I raised my eyebrow again, stepping out of the way to let him pass. This man had a temper, and I wasn't going to get in his way. But my sixth sense told me that this man was lying about something. You can usually tell a liar from someone telling the truth, but this guy was good.

He had no tells. He kept eye contact, didn't touch his face or hair when he was speaking and his voice kept its consistency. But when I had asked him about his shoes he had dodged the question, I had thrown him off course. **I **wasn't in his little routine.

Warren came out of the kitchen a moment later, shaking his head. He looked at me and said, "Sorry about that." I stumbled over my words as I apologised. I had to go see Oona.

((-------------))

When I was at Oona's house she answered the door and let me in. I explained what had happened at the Paper Lantern. She nodded, pursing her glossed lips in thought. As she walked out of her main room I could only catch a glimpse of a large golden Buddha before the door swung shut again.

"Show me," Oona demanded. I handed her the badge and business card. She examined the card carefully.

"Fake," she determined, "good quality, expensive paper, but definitely forged. Whoever did this was a pro, though. You can tell." She handed the card back to me. She explained how there are subtle differences that you can always find on fakes. Like on shoes, handbags or 'designer' clothing they spell things wrong, change the logo etc. at risk of getting sued.

"And," Oona continued, "He introduced himself as Charles Huchard. FBI agents never tell you their first names- I should know." Oona had been investigated a few times because of her forgeries and hacking, she had never gone to court or been prosecuted, though.

"They always say 'Agent So-and-so', and then they tell you that they're in the FBI. Standard procedure," she told me. She also took the badge from me and laughed as she saw it.

"This isn't the FBI logo, you twit. This, unlike the card, is a cheap forgery."

I sighed in frustration, "I knew it." When she asked me how I figured it out I said that his shoes were Italian. She nodded knowingly.

"Does Warren know?" she asked me.

"Shit! He doesn't," I swore under my breath. I knew right then that this guy had to be up to no good. He wanted to get information from Warren, but I didn't know what.

((-------------))

I caught up with Warren later and ran up to him. He seemed surprised that I was there, as I'm sure you can imagine. Although I felt no personal commitment to this guy, I am not one to let someone get hurt unless I am the one inflicting the pain.

"Warren?" I asked. He turned immediately. You know, of course, how stunningly gorgeous this guys is. You know how he is tall, muscular, and handsome and has a good hairstyle. You know that his eyes are a smoky grey and his skin is flawless. What you probably don't know is that when he is deep in thought his eye twitches a little… but that has nothing to do with anything at this point.

"Yes?" he asked back.

"What did that guy, Charles Whatshisname, wanna know?"

Warren scoffed, "Just stuff." I rolled my eyes and explained that he was the FBI. The FBI doesn't ask you questions if it's just 'stuff'.

"The thing is," I began, "he wasn't an FBI agent." This struck Warren and he raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know?" he asked. I shrugged and began rambling on about shoes and Oona and forgeries. He just looked at me, blinking slowly as if trying to absorb a lot of information… or maybe he was trying to block it out.

"Don't worry, Kerri," Warren assured me once I had stopped rambling, "I didn't tell him anything."

"But aren't you worried about what he wanted?" many years of reading spy and mystery novels has had a bad effect on me, and I read too much into every situation.

"Listen," Warren told me angrily, "He wanted to know about my dad. Apparently he's broken out of prison."

I paused. This was big- the nefarious Barron Battle roamed the streets of Maxville again. Who knew what he was up to…

"They wanted to know if I had anything to do with it," Warren told me.

"Did you?" I asked quickly, suddenly realising how accusing I sounded. I hadn't meant to make it sound as if he _did _have something to do with it. My natural sense of curiosity has a mind of its own.

"No. I didn't. Why won't anyone believe me?" he muttered darkly.

This was the beginning of the end, and it was all because of Charles Huchard. Who most definitely _wasn't_ an FBI agent.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

We never saw Charles Huchard again, even though I am fairly sure that that isn't his real name. But the incident was the beginning of the end. Warren became distant. Even though I wasn't necessarily his 'girlfriend' as such, I felt really upset that he started to block me out.

When I went to Lila for help she simply said, "Give him space." Space? That, I thought, was bullshit, seeing as space wasn't what we needed. I knocked on the door of his apartment one evening and he answered. To my [pleasant surprise, he was shirtless, and I fought to keep my eyes at his face.

"I think something's up," was my greeting.

"What?"

"You're acting strange."

"Why would I--"

"You've been weird ever since the FBI thing," I told him sternly. He backed me up against the wall and said, "I don't want to talk about the FBI thing."

Figures. He never really wanted to talk, anyway.

"But I'm pissed off abo--"

I was interrupted by his mouth crushing against mine. I'm not sure if he wanted to shut me up or if he really thought I was in his apartment for sex. Maybe I was, because that's where it led.

That same night, back at home, Lila raised an eyebrow at me as she saw my crumpled clothing and messy hair. "You guys seem to be doing that a lot," she murmured as she let me in the front door.

Before I left Warrens apartment he had kissed me. Not like he usually did, which was rough, animal like and basically just horny. He kissed me softly, like he knew me. It was one of those things that are hard to describe. It wasn't as if fireworks went off or anything, it was simply serene.

That was the last night I slept with Warren Peace.

--------------------------

Now, I sat on my bed contemplating what had happened over the past year, up until I saw Warren picking up Magenta. I was surprised once again when Lila called me up.

"The phone is for you," she said. I frowned, not sure if I had even heard the phone ringing.

--Kerri?—

"Oh, hey Oona."

--How was dinner?—

"I meant to call you about that. I saw Warren."

--Warren came to dinner?—

"He was picking up this girl who was there. Her name's Magenta, she was staying at Bianca's."

--Girlfriend?—

My heart skipped a beat. Could that girl who I had connected with so well be his girlfriend? It was probable, as she was what I would consider to be his 'type'.

"Maybe."

--Ooh. Harsh.—

"Yeah," I sighed.

--Wanna go shopping? It'll make you feel better.—

"No thanks, I think I'll just go to bed."

I crawled into bed, wishing in some corner of my mind that someone was lying next to me. He used to do that, you know. Just lie with me, our feet playing with each other under the covers. He would sometimes stroke my hair when he thought I was sleeping.

I curled up into a ball, trying to warm myself as I had suddenly become very cold.

The next morning, I saw Oona at school. She rushed to my side and began saying, "How are you? Are you okay?" I felt very claustrophobic now that she was giving me all this attention.

I had an overpowering urge to sink into the floor and disappear.

Next thing I know, I'm inside the ground.

"Holy shit!" I said softly to myself before willing myself back up to the surface. I appeared to face a dumbstruck Oona, staring at me.

I looked at my feet, my eyes wide. It had been the most thrilling feeling. The feeling of non-existence. "Okay," Oona began, pointing at me, "What just happened?"

"I-I think I've got my powers," I mumbled. I walked closer to Oona and touched her arm and then willed to do what I had done before. My arm sunk through Oona and she yelped.

I walked directly through her. "Oh my god!" I shrieked with happiness.

Oona swore in Chinese and said, "Wow, Kerri… you can go intangible."

This was a moment of my life that I would never, ever forget. Not only had I acquired my powers, something that I had willed since I was small. But it was something useful and extraordinary. After years of trying to make myself an individual, I suddenly have this ability to sink through solid objects. To go intangible, to meld into things that would cause me pain.

I could disappear into the floor, letting the world swallow me up into quiet bliss.

It was, as far as I was concerned, the coolest moment of my life, and the best power I could have.

---

I told the school nurse that I wasn't feeling well and she let me go home. I rushed in through the door, to see my Aunt sitting at the coffee table. Opposite her was a woman in a cream colored suit.

"Suzie!" I called to her happily, not caring about the woman at the table with her.

"Kerri," she said sternly, "Why aren't you in school?"

I pulled her away from the woman at the table with her, into my bedroom. I demonstrated my power to her, letting my arm sink into the wall.

"That's fantastic, Kerri," she smiled, "But I already know."

"What?"

The woman in the cream suit came into the room and said, "Kerrina, I told your aunt about your power. One of out staff sensed it developing, and told me to come find your family." She approached me and said, "I am Principle Powers, of Sky High."

This was far too much for me to take in, so I stood in silence for a while, not believing it. Then it hit me, "Sky High?" Warren went to Sky High!

"Do I have to come to Sky High?" I asked.

"It would be best," Principle Powers told me. But, I thought, I could hardly leave Oona, could I?

For Warren, I was willing to.


End file.
